Poison

“I've been waiting for you.”

Fraser didn't lift his eyes, just pulling a long drink from the cold glass in the palm of his hand. He set it down with a faint click, letting the girl's words fade into the bar noise. He tipped his head back, pulling a match from behind his ear, flicking it around his fingers before setting it upon the counter. The girl's manicured nails snatched up the match, settling the match between her thin lips.

“You shouldn't be here,” he said, and still didn't glance her way. He saw her blond hair shift as she hopped on stool next to him. She nodded to the bartender, who slid a beer her way. She wrapped her long fingers around the glass. “This is not a good place for protectors, Kida.”

Kida rolled her blue eyes skyward and pulling the match to play with. “You're such a hypocrite.”

“Watch yourself, kid.”

She grinned, punching him in the shoulder with a quick jab, her skinny arm flashing out. “Smart mouth, Fraser. You're only five years older then me.”

“You're the youngest out of all of us. I recall Sol calling you her little sister.”

Kida frowned, settling her cheek against her hand. “Why won't you tell me where she is?”

“She's better where she is.”

“So you think.” She turned abruptly, narrowing her eyes. “What aren't you telling me? This is me, Fraser, I'm not going to backstab you. I won't let them take Sol away.” She paused before continuing. “They say she has the Heart Gem. We're sworn to protect it. Or did you forget about that along with all the promises you made to her?”

“She knew the risks.”

“You left her alone, Fraser. You swore you'd never let that happen again.”

“I swore a lot of things.”

“Yes, you did. And didn't keep a lot of them."

He glowered in her direction, sipping at the frosty beer glance in front of him. “Leave it alone, Kida.”

Kida let the topic fall. “Is she at least safe?”

Fraser glanced up. “Yeah. She's safe.”


Sol pressed her hands to her eyes, on the ground. Somewhere behind her water dripped softly. Echoing softly in the dark cavern, those drops fell. A hand fell upon her shoulder, a warmth that spread from that single spot. Her eyes widened as she felt the person sit next to her, the warm hand becoming two arms that tugged her gently into their arms. She fell into the arms, feeling something inside of her tremble.

She glanced up, seeing blue eyes who smiled at her.

“Jakob, what are you doing?” she whispered.

He shrugged. “Helping you.”


“Where the hell did you go?”

Sol glanced up, eyes wide, heart in her hand. Dust clung to her, tears still fresh on her cheeks. Even walking the bike back, she'd been caught. The moment she stepped inside of the kitchen, Rose leapt upon her with words, lashing out violently. Oz sat at the dining room table, his eyes serious and his hands folded. Jazz and Raven leaned against the door, with a sleepy Raven complying with Jazz's pushing to settle within the nook of his arm. In the doorway stood Reed, hair sticking out wildly as he contemplated the adults. Seeming as though to dub them all stark-raving mad, he climbed on one of the chairs and collapsed there.

“Uh—,” she started and then stopped. There were no words.

“Where?” Rose prompted, sticking her in the side with her finger.

“Just for a ride. I—I couldn't sleep,” Sol said.

Oz lifted an eyebrow. “Don't lie to us.”

Sol's eyes fell to the ground, the beat up tile, trailing along the wooden cabinets. Some of the wood was chipping, and last month one of the doors broke off without warning. Rose had begun to fuss about when the stove would break down. She wanted to tell the truth, just put it out there. See where it would go, running wild and rampant in the hands of these survivors.

“I don't know where to start,” she finally whispered.

Jazz perked up, saying gently, “I do. Who was at the shop?”

Her lips tightened, and her voice strengthened. “I don't know.”

Rose scowled. “What do you mean that you don't know?”

“I don't,” Sol said, reaching her fingers out, staring at them. The scraps where she had skidded out the window, felt the throbbing under her chin, the fire in her eyes where the salty tears had burned. Blood trickled down her neck, but until she explained herself, she would have to suffer. “All I know is I used to know him. That he used to know me. He was right there.” She looked up. “Someone with all the answers.”

“What happened after you realized?” Oz asked.

“I confronted him. Asked for answers. He blew me off.” If you can't look in the mirror and recognize yourself, how can you expect to recognize someone else?. “Told me to get lost.”

“So you went back, hoping he'd still be there.” Raven's voice shocked them all, her eyes and ears now alert. “What did you find?”

“Not him.”

“But you found someone,” Oz said slowly, a statement.

“Yes,” Sol said. “Someone else who claims to know me. Someone else I recognized.”

The silence in the room became deafening before Oz continued, “Who was it?”

“I don't remember his name.” Her eyebrows came down, a slit line forming between her brows. “I don't remember much about him. I know that at some time...at some time we were friends. Something changed between us.”

“You're being vague, Sol,” Oz scolded.

“Vague is all I know.”

“But you're not telling us something.”

She was silent for a brief moment before she said, “He said that the last time we saw each other, I tried to kill him. I obviously failed, and this time around he tried to repay the favor. He shot at me several times. Got a couple pieces of brick wedged into my skin.”

“Anything else you noticed about the man?”

“He—he had a tattoo. On his arm. I nearly didn't see it, but the light flashed right on where his sleeve was rolled up.”

“What was it?” Rose asked, beating Oz.

“The symbol I'd noticed on the wall—the broken infinity. As far as I can tell, he was a rebel.”

Which means she'd tried to kill a rebel. That could lead to a great many conclusions. Perhaps it had been before he was a rebel. Or not.

The silence settled again on top of the grim group. They'd taken Sol in as a risk—she didn't know who she was, they didn't know who she was—however, there had never been a problem in the last months. She'd become a piece of their family of misfits, falling into their crowd of haphazard smart-asses and survivors. However, that could quickly change as soon as she became a threat.

Being a possible murderer in her old life could become a threat fast.

“He shot at you?” Rose asked, and when Sol nodded, she waved her over. “Let's get those pieces of brick out of you.”

She slowly stepped forward, towards Rose, careful. She knows her precarious situation. Rose is protective. Reed watched his mother with solemn eyes, and Sol stood before the woman. Her nerves jumped in her throat, only to calm when Rose smiled at her, placing a cool hand on her screaming neck. The blood stained the palm of her hand. Sol felt all of the nervous energy drain out of her, sliding down to the floor and pooling about her feet.

So it was lucky when noticed the shift in Rose's demeanor.

Spinning out of her grasp, Sol barely avoided Rose's arm as she went to slam Sol's head into the hard oak table. Without a second thought, Sol saw bright vivid red flashing across her eyes. Her lips pulled back, grasping the inside of Rose's arm, flipping her over so she landed flat on the table. Rose let out a startled yelp as her whole weight smashed into the groaning wood. It held, but only because Rose wasn't large. Grasping both arms, Sol held her down, looking into those dazed eyes.

Sol didn't know what she just did, but dread filled her to the brim.

“She's been trained,” Jazz said continuing as if there wasn't half a fight right before his very eyes.

“Yes,” Oz said.

“But she doesn't have a tattoo,” Raven argued.

“We don't know that,” Jazz said, staring at the red-headed girl.

“Why does it matter?” Rose gasped out, tugging her arms free. She slid so her feet hung off of the edge of the table, trying to catch her breath. “It all has to do now with whether or not we help her.”

Sol felt this pounding in her skull. Where were they going with all of this? All of this madness?

“Rose—I'm—,” Sol started before Rose cut her off.

“No, you're not. You defended yourself. I wanted to prove a point. I did.”

Oz slid his hands across the table, ignoring Sol. “This is a risk. She doesn't remember her past. She could be a protector or a rebel for all we know. However,” he said, pausing to grace Sol one glance with a wink, he continued, “what we do know is that she has become an important part of this household.”

Jazz took a step forward. “I like her.”

Raven nodded in agreement. “So do I.”

“We all do,” Rose said, but always the level head, she cuddled Reed to her. He'd run over to her when it seemed safe. “That has nothing to do with this. She's been found. Someone wants her dead. So we either risk protecting her, or we send her on her merry way.” She shoved her fingers through her own hair. “What we know is that Sol doesn't remember her past. When we first found her, she was completely broken, skinny, beaten up, and quite frankly as dumb as a rock. As she's grown healthy, she's begun to have flashes of her past—a rock here, a man there—all from what we believe are her memories. Two men have recognized her, neither with must enthusiasm. What we don't know is whether or not over time Sol has regained her memory and not told us, whether she has a rebel tattoo or a protector mark. We don't know what her last name is, and we don't know what those men meant or mean to her.”

Sol despised being talked to as if she wasn't there. “I'm not lying.”

“Those are your words,” Rose admitted. “But we don't know for sure. We can't, Sol, and you know that.”

Survivors. We're all survivors.

“So what are the choices?” Jazz asked.

“We can keep her, or leave her,” Oz said.

Raven nodded again. “I guess we have to take into account the risk she could be.”

Oz frowned at them all. “So lets take a vote. Majority wins.”

“This can't be real,” Sol whispered.

“Rose?” Oz said, ignoring Sol again.

“She leaves. I love her, but I've got Reed.”

“Raven?”

She frowns. “I don't know. I guess, stay. She's good with being helpful, and she's willing to try new things. She could come in handy. So what if we don't know exactly what she's done. We're all capable of lying.”

“Jazz?”

“Damn it, Oz, you know I can't make the decision. I want to protect us, but I love her too. She's grown on me, like a fungus.”

“Thank you for that,” Sol said dryly.

“Fine,” Oz said. “It wouldn't make sense anyway, just in case we have a stalemate.”

Rose glanced at Oz, saying, “What is your decision, wise one?”

Oz slid his eyes to Sol. “Well, I guess—,” he stopped, his eyes wide. He glanced over at the door. Silence fell all around.

Raven was the first to speak, her heart pounding, “What a nice day we're having.”

Code: run.

Slowly, Rose left first, towing Reed away while they all tried to sound normal. Sweat gathered at the base of Sol's neck. Who was it? The man from yesterday? Rebels? Protectors? Who the hell is after her? Is it even for her?

It must be. She's disturbed the peace, brought about havoc.

Sol, you attract trouble like honey does a bee.

By the time the upstairs door closed, Jazz had picked up a metal pipe to the side, Raven pulled out a gun slid into her bra. Oz calmly sat in the chair, his legs spread as he leaned against them. Sol took one of Rose's knives, holding out the handle to Oz. He took it from her, gazing at her, while she grasped her own knife, tucking it in the band of her jeans. They could hear the slight shuffling of feet.

They wouldn't knock. It would out of character, destroy any sort of advantage they'd have in this situation. Those rebels or Guardians would barge into the house, guns firing and destroying and ravaging their homes.

The door slowly opened, creaking and pausing before exploding open. And the first bullet that wedged itself into the far wall destroyed that delicate balance.